Im from California. When I tell people this on the East Coastwhere I have lived for the past seven yearsI can tell they get the wrong impression. The Golden State unfailingly conjures up pictures of sunny beaches filled with tan girls lounging about in bikinis. In these mental images, I assume, palm trees are not far away. <\/p>\n
Thats not the California Im from. I grew up in Berkeley , a well-known small city still most associated with its university and the Free Speech Movement. And while the Bay Area, where Berkeley is centrally situated, is one of two great metropolitan poles that anchor the U.S.s second longest state, its somehow often an afterthought when the worlds sixth largest economy comes up. <\/p>\n
Perhaps thats changing. Silicon Valleys tech boom has undoubtedly catapulted the San Francisco region to new level of notoriety. But no matter how much fame the Mark Zuckerbergs and Larry Pages may ultimately acquire for my hometowns extended area, most people will never picture the type of beaches that I grew up going to when the song California Dreamin suddenly comes crooning through the radio. <\/p>\n
Stinson Beach is an hour-plus drive away from my old house. Despite the fact that Berkeley is technically located on a body of water, its the closest beach there is. (Some people might challenge me on this, to which I would respond that you have to calculate in the inevitable traffic delays that come with a trip to San Franciscos Ocean Beach.) The drive to Stinson is stunningly beautiful, but it can be equally unpleasant. Punctuated by stretches of boring industrial landscapes and adrenaline-inducing cliffs, the journey is if nothing else visually diverse. <\/p>\n
After reaching Berkeleys outer limit, Highway 580 snakes through Richmonds Chevron plants to the three-lane Richmond San Rafael Bridge. On the other side is Marin, a county thats one-half bottle blonde moms, and one-half old-school hippies. The goal here is to get to, and stay on, Panoramic Highway. Despite its switch back turns and elevation changes, the road takes you through an extended red wood forrest. If you do this drive a few times before visiting Muir Woods, youll likely be underwhelmed. <\/p>\n
The other option is to get onto Highway 1. Famously beautiful, cruelly steep, its difficult to imagine how even the most experienced drivers could glide down this road without a hint of anxiety. The reward is, however, worth the stress risk. Its here where you can truly soar along the Pacific Ocean, cliff on one side, sea and sky merging together on the other. When I think back on it now, I cant help but envision the flight pattern of a seaside birddipping here, dipping there, at times appearing to drift out to sea, but always ultimately hugging the coast, albeit from above. <\/p>\n
No matter which road you take (and make no mistake, I recommend the former), the initial moment of reveal always catches your breath. Suddenly, on the other side of one of those switchback turns, there it is: the beach. More often then not, you realize that its foggy. The Bay Area has a way of doing that to you, especially in the summer. (Theres a reason why local residents often use the expressions June gloom and Fogust when referring the first and last months of the summer season.) But even on a cloudless day, when you see Stinson for the first time, its likely to be steeped in a blanket of gray. Marin is a banana belt, but the Pacific Ocean in Northern California is not. <\/p>\n
Regardless, upon ultimately piling out of the car in the parking lot, and trotting up a slightly inclined path to the sand, Stinson does what all great beaches doelicit a giddy, almost primal, sense of joy. I think this sensation is rooted in drama; the ocean is so large compared to us, so omnipresent and so powerful once its reached. It has a way too of making the natural things around itnamely the sky and surrounding landsuddenly feel twice as grand. Its here where Stinson truly excels. After the long wait, perilous drive, and knowledge that you are now at one of the worlds great shark capitals, Stinson knows how to drum up the drama. <\/p>\n
Most days at Stinson, I didnt even get in to the water. (In the winter its way too cold without a wet suit, and even this time of year, it can be unappealingly frigid.) Senior year of high school, I would lie on my back smiling, skin fully covered despite the thick layer of SPF 70 that I had previously applied. On the way back home, a few hours later, I would be overcome with a dreamy feeling of accomplishment. Without a doubt, these memories are informed by a slight nostalgia for life with my high school friends, blaring loud pop music during what would be, for many of us, the last days that wed live in California (at least for now). <\/p>\n
But would I trade Stinson for any other beachsome endlessly sunny, easily accessible, Southern Californian counterpart? Not a chance. The beauty of Stinson rests in its drama. Its apparent flaws hold a magnetic appeal. And through those rough waters, that truth reflects unflinchingly back up at you. No matter how foggy the day may be. <\/p>\n
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See the rest here: <\/p>\n
Despite Gloom and Doom, Northern California's Beaches Still Hold a Magnetic Appeal - Vogue.com<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Im from California. When I tell people this on the East Coastwhere I have lived for the past seven yearsI can tell they get the wrong impression. Continue reading